


Avalanche

by chasesstarlight



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, WWE NXT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-14 12:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasesstarlight/pseuds/chasesstarlight
Summary: Ever since his untimely job switch, Corey Graves generally prides himself on being detached and professional as a commentator.And then Samoa Joe throws Shinsuke Nakamura into the ring steps and all that flies straight out the window.





	Avalanche

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).



> Who requested something that I'd been wanting to read quite badly myself, so I figured it was probably a sign!  
> Hope you enjoy, happy summer solstice. :D
> 
> (Title from the Walk the Moon song of the same name.)

_________

 

In retrospect, they should’ve all listened to the nerd in the audience shouting “It’s a trap!”.

 

Though the Star Wars reference makes Corey roll his eyes - he can’t deny he’s looking forward to Roode classing the place up a bit - , he can’t quite shake the sense of unease as Samoa Joe calmly, respectfully calls out Nakamura to talk about the possibility of a rematch. It’s possible he’s been humbled by the loss, of course, but Corey’s skeptical. He’s seen Joe respond with violence to the pettiest of grievances, and while it makes for memorable television at times, it’d be a shame to have their brand-new champion’s coronation interrupted by a brawl. That’s the actual title belt, not one of its many stunt doubles; it’d be a shame to have to deal with the property damage.

 

Thankfully, Nakamura seems to be wary of the situation. He keeps his distance, and playfully pretends to hesitate before agreeing to the rematch. The crowd absolutely eats it up, and while Corey doesn’t think he quite understands this weird magic Nakamura seems to have, he does get it in a visceral sort of way. He relaxes as Nakamura gracefully steps around Joe as he leaves the ring, and sees Tom let out the breath he was holding next to him. Corey looks over at him with a wry smile - idiot though he may be, occasionally they’ve got pretty similar instincts.

 

Joe shakes Nakamura’s hand and leaves, and it’s time to get back to work. Apparently this is the real deal, so - “You’ve got to give Samoa Joe credit, too,” Corey says. It’s a pleasant surprise and an uncharacteristic show of respect, so he’s willing to give him props for that. He’s already digging around his notes for the next match and great, it’s Liv Morgan, can’t have one taping without New Jersey making everything that much tackier.

 

Suddenly, the crowd roars and a stunned Tom shouts “Oh my God” next to him, and Corey’s eyes snap back up from his notes in time to see Joe smash Shinsuke’s head into the apron. He’s thrown into the steps hard and - he’s _not moving_.

 

Before he can really think about what he’s doing, Corey’s away from the safety of the commentary desk and uselessly hovering near Shinsuke, who’s flinching as the medical staff carefully put on a neck brace and maneuver him onto a stretcher. Regal looks utterly livid - that’s his brand-new champion being carried out of the venue, probably out of commission for a while - but Corey can’t look away from Shinsuke’s face, drawn tight with pain as he’s carried out of the arena.

 

Corey’s feeling dazed as he gets back to his desk, unable to quite think straight, but thankfully Tom takes pity on him and quickly recaps what just happened. He takes over the lion’s share of the actual commentary, as well; partway through the match, they get the message Nakamura’s been taken to a nearby medical facility and Corey’s stuck in a swirl of panic and memories, remembering what it was like to hear he’d never wrestle again and feeling sick at the thought of Shinsuke, unable to move the way that made a whole new country fall for him at first sight.

 

He’s probably mostly useless for the rest of the show, but Tom elects to earn his keep for once and cover for him; honestly, Corey’s happy for someone else to do most of the talking. He gets through the rest of the show on autopilot and afterwards, he’s about to head home and have the largest drink he can find in the hope that he’ll be able to sleep without seeing Shinsuke crash into steel every time he closes his eyes. Tom grabs his shoulder before he can leave, though, and hands him a piece of paper with an address and a room number.

 

“Sorry,” Corey says, confused, “but you’re not really my type?”

 

Tom gives him a bemused look. “It’s where they took Nakamura, you idiot. You and I both know you’re not sleeping tonight anyway, so if you want to know what’s going on…”

 

Corey’s suddenly struck with the urge to hug the guy. He wouldn’t, of course - neither of them is quite that sappy - but he clasps Tom’s shoulder briefly, and Tom looks like he’s trying not to laugh at him. Corey turns on his heel and starts to walk towards the exit, but pauses after a few steps to turn back for a second.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom says, still looking vaguely amused. “I know. Just go. And text me if anything happens?”

 

“Yeah, of course. I’m gonna - “ Corey’s voice trails off, and Tom waves him away.

 

________

 

 

Nobody stops Corey as he wanders through the halls of the medical facility he’d been directed to. It’s quiet, with only the occasional staff member walking past. Either not many people are here, or everyone’s asleep at this time of night.

 

There’s light coming from around the corner, though, and as Corey approaches he can hear voices. He peers around the doorway and there’s William Regal, looking very tired, talking quietly to what he assumes is a doctor. Regal glances up and Corey feels vaguely embarrassed, like he’s been caught sneaking around, but Regal just beckons him into the room with a sigh, looking back at the papers the doctor’s handed him.

 

They continue talking, but Corey walks over to the bed in the corner and immediately loses track of the conversation. Shinsuke’s unconscious, with the kind of stillness that makes Corey suspect it’s probably not a natural sleep. He looks calm, so presumably he’s on enough medication to not be in pain, but watching him lie there, totally motionless, is disconcerting nevertheless. He seems smaller, somehow - but maybe it’s just that normally, his sheer energy makes it feel like he takes up more space than he actually does.

 

Corey sits down in one of the chairs and notices he’s reached out a hand, which is now hovering near Shinsuke’s hair spread out across the pillow. He catches himself, and briefly touches Shinsuke’s shoulder instead, and it’s a comfort to feel him shift slightly as he breathes.

 

Leaning back in his chair and running a hand across his face, Corey takes a deep breath himself. Regal and the doctor are still talking - about rehab plans, it sounds like - and he’s starting to catch snippets of the conversation. Physical therapy. Six to twelve weeks. Contusions and sprains and things that sound painful, but nothing that’d threaten his career.

 

He’s going to be okay.

 

Corey breathes out shakily and opens his eyes - and sees Shinsuke looking back at him. He looks somewhat out of it, bleary-eyed and somewhat disoriented, and Corey just gapes for a few seconds before Shinsuke stirs and tries to sit up.

 

Three things happen in quick succession: Regal’s and the doctor’s heads snap up at Shinsuke’s stifled groan as he moves, the doctor all but shoves Corey aside in her haste to get Shinsuke to lie back down, and Regal manoeuvers Corey out of the way to give them some space. There’s a hand pressed between his shoulder blades and he’s guided out of the room, still in a bit of a daze.

 

When they’re in the hallway, Regal grabs Corey’s shoulders and gives him a quick once-over, frowning slightly.

 

“It’s going to be fine, Corey. He’ll be back in the ring in a month or two; there’s nothing wrong that would have lasting consequences.” The pity in Regal’s face is mortifying, and Corey’s about two seconds away from saying something snappish and defensive to his boss and potentially being out of a job. Instead, he takes a deep breath to regain his composure and scrambles to find another explanation, any explanation, when he’s thankfully saved by the doctor stepping back out.

 

“As I said earlier, he should make a full recovery, though it would help if someone were to keep him from immediately moving around like nothing happened,” she tells them, her voice a mixture of bemusement and just plain fatigue. “We’ll discharge him in the morning. He’s on quite a lot of drugs right now and we’d like to be safe. Also, it’s two in the morning. Are there any next of kin on hand who can drive him home?” She gives Regal a calculating look, but before he replies, Corey hears himself blurt out “I’ll do it.”

 

Regal’s eyebrows quirk up, and Corey continues; “I’ll stay here, it’s fine. Go home, you have other things to deal with. I’ll drive Shinsuke home in the morning.”

 

Regal still looks doubtful, but the thought of dealing with Samoa Joe and herding the rest of the NXT roster apparently wins out over having one performer take up all of his attention, champion or no. Regal heads home and the doctor leaves to care for the rest of her patients - if there are any, the place seems totally deserted - and Corey slinks back into the room.

 

Shinsuke’s out cold again, likely as a result of an extra dose of painkillers. Corey sends Tom a quick text to let him know what’s happening before settling in a chair to keep watch. He’s pretty sure he’s still too keyed-up to get any sleep, but he closes his eyes and leans back to relax for a while.

 

________

 

 

Corey’s woken up by the sun shining into his eyes, and for the first few seconds he has no idea where he is and why his neck hurts so much. He squints around the room, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light, and eventually a hospital room comes into focus. In a rush, he remembers how he got there - the show, the attack, _Shinsuke_ \- and his eyes snap to the bed, falling on the sleeping figure mostly concealed by the sheets.

 

Thankfully, the eerie stillness is gone; Shinsuke seems to be dozing for a moment before stirring and blinking a few times, wincing as he brings up his hand to shield his eyes from the light. As he visibly adjusts to the brightness, Corey feels slightly awkward, not entirely sure how to start a conversation. Before he’s managed to gather his thoughts, though, he catches Shinsuke’s attention and receives a look of disgruntled, just-woke-up confusion that makes part of Corey just want to smile and tell him to go back to sleep. As he’s a professional, though, he just clears his throat and says, “Good morning.”

 

Shinsuke blinks again before focusing, still looking slightly disoriented. “Corey? Why are you here?” He glances around the room and continues, “Where is here?”

 

“Hospital. Er. How much do you remember of what happened?”

 

He gets a frown in response, and Shinsuke stares up at the ceiling for a moment. “We were taping NXT. Joe called me out, and - “ Recollection seems to hit him, and he trails off into Japanese; Corey’s command of the language is pretty much limited to greetings and food orders, but if he had to guess, he probably couldn’t translate this in polite company anyway.

 

Still irate and apparently ready to take the fight back to Joe immediately, Shinsuke moves to sit up. He winces as he does so, and Corey sees his skin lose all colour. Reflexively, Corey moves to steady him before he loses his balance and injures himself further, likely resulting in Corey’s imminent murder by Regal. Trying to remember what he was told about the injuries, Corey wraps a careful arm around Shinsuke’s back and feels him lean back against him as he struggles to get his breath under control.

 

Corey remembers what this feels like, just sitting there and hoping for the pain to stop, and he feels incredibly useless despite it. He gently squeezes Shinsuke’s shoulder, hoping to give him something else to focus on but still afraid he might accidentally cause more pain, and mutters vaguely soothing nonsense.

 

Eventually, Shinsuke gathers himself, and he moves away slightly and gives Corey a somewhat wry look out of the corner of his eye.

 

_“Ow.”_

 

Corey can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I can imagine. Want to pick up some more drugs and get you home?”

 

“Yes, more drugs sounds good.” Shinsuke gingerly gets up, Corey hovering nearby in case anything goes wrong; getting dressed takes a significant amount of time, but thankfully, he seems to be able to move around as long as he’s careful about it.

 

Corey guides him to his car before doubling back; no need for any extra walking or standing around this way. When he returns to the car, Shinsuke’s nodded off again, likely as a result of the painkillers. Corey intends to let him sleep, but then he realizes he doesn’t actually have any idea where Shinsuke lives, and he regretfully nudges his shoulder to wake him and ask for the address.

 

Happily, it’s a short drive. It’s not that complex where half the roster seems to have moved, but it’s close enough that Corey knows at least a handful of people who live within a couple blocks. Instead of immediately roping someone else into running errands, though, he maneuvers Shinsuke into his apartment and onto his couch and runs off to buy groceries - he can’t really expect Shinsuke to do any heavy lifting for awhile.

 

Corey doesn’t really know what to get in terms of food, so he picks what he would normally get and hopes Shinsuke’s taste isn’t too far from his. When he gets back, Shinsuke’s curled up on the couch, fast asleep, so Corey quietly puts away the groceries and intends to leave. After a moment’s hesitation, he scribbles a quick note with his phone number in case he needs anything, before slinking out of the apartment.

 

When he walks back towards his car and checks his phone for the first time since he left his announce desk, Corey notices he has sixteen missed calls and twenty-nine new messages. Oops. Apparently the word that he’d been the one to stay with Shinsuke had spread; most of the NXT roster and a fair few people off Raw and Smackdown have tried to get a hold of him. He scrolls through the texts - there’s a half-dozen increasingly capslock-heavy ones from Finn, something with a lot of exclamation marks from Sami, a painfully Canadian-polite message from Tye, even Peyton and Billie Kay seem to be worried. He sends out a mass text to everyone who’s just asking for an update along the lines of “he’ll be fine, but out a while, can’t say much more” but figures he should probably call his boss back. Regal’s message was just “Call me when you have the time”, but making him wait feels like it’d be a terrible idea.

 

“Hello Corey,” Regal answers when he picks up. “What news do you have for me?”

 

Corey hesitates before answering; he doesn’t really have that much in the way of new information. “Nothing you didn’t already know. Shinsuke’s in quite a lot of pain, but there’s not much anyone can do - it just needs time.”

 

He hears Regal sigh over the phone. “Yes, that’s about what I expected. Thank you for looking after him, in any case.”

 

“No problem. And - thanks. You know.” Corey isn’t really sure how to explain what he’s thankful for, exactly, but he has a hunch Regal probably understands nevertheless.

 

He hears a huff of laughter over the line and Regal continues, “You look after yourself as well, and I’ll see you at the taping next week.”

 

Corey dithers for a moment, staring at his phone, before heading off.

 

_________

 

 

At the Raw taping the next week, Corey’s immediately accosted by everyone who got his mass text, thus defeating the point of sending it in the first place. After the fifth person - Sasha, which, have she and Shinsuke even met? - makes a grab for him backstage and asks what’s happened and how Shinsuke is doing, Corey seriously considers making a sign saying something along the lines of “No, the injuries aren’t permanent. Yes, he’ll be fine. Yes, Joe is a lunatic”, and pinning it to his jacket. This is getting ridiculous.

 

For all the theatrics his coworkers are showing, he’s not heard from Shinsuke himself at all and he can’t decide whether that worries him or not. He checks his phone for the umpteenth time in the past few days and squints at it in irritation at the total lack of notifications. He feels a prod in his side and jerks; when he looks up, Charlotte is standing next to him with a somewhat irritated expression. She’s still wearing her ring gear and championship belt, looking every bit the Queen. She quirks an eyebrow.

 

“Well aren’t you the centre of attention today. Don’t think I didn’t notice the lack of enthusiasm at the show tonight; what’s wrong with you?”

 

“Nothing!” Corey starts, confused. Has he been acting weird enough that Charlotte noticed, even while she’s still in the midst of her post-Summerslam victory lap? “Everything’s fine. Just getting tired of everybody interrogating me about Nakamura, you know?”

 

Charlotte snorts. “Ah, yes, everybody’s favourite. You should’ve seen Sasha’s face when she watched last week’s NXT. What is it about that one that makes everyone lose their minds? I don’t remember seeing you panic like that before.”

 

Corey feels himself flush. “I don’t know. It was unnerving to watch, you know? He was unconscious, and it’s weird to see him motionless like that.”

 

Thankfully, Charlotte doesn’t push further, though she gives him a skeptical look. She leans against his shoulder for a moment - a rare moment of affection, coming from her - but then Corey’s distracted by the buzz of his phone in his pocket. He fishes it out and feels Charlotte glance at the screen, stifle a laugh, and wander off.

 

The number isn’t familiar to him, but he can make an educated guess who it’s from based on the contents.

 

_Please tell everyone I’m not dying. They won’t leave me alone._

 

Corey laughs out loud, suddenly feeling significantly lighter despite the somewhat plaintive message.

 

_Trust me, I try. At least you don’t have to fend them off in person. (That you, Shinsuke?)_

 

_Yes._

 

A brief pause after that message, and then another one comes in:

 

_And thank you, for last week. I don’t remember saying that yet. But I was on a lot of drugs, so I’m not sure._

 

Well, that’s probably fair. Corey stifles another laugh before tapping out the reply.

 

_Don’t worry about it. Sorry in advance for asking, but how are you?_

 

_Sore. And bored, I can’t do anything. But slightly better than last week._

 

_Well, progress! Consider it a vacation, maybe?_

 

The reply to that is a selfie, with Shinsuke looking exceptionally bored, apparently lounging around his place in a very comfy-looking oversized hoodie. Corey tugs at the stiff collar of his shirt and feels faintly jealous.

 

_Be good for a few weeks, you’ll be back to kneeing people in the skull before you know it._

 

Corey pauses after he’s sent that, wondering if it’s overly familiar, but it’s not like he can unsend it. He gets back a smirking emoji and isn’t really sure how to respond. When he looks up, Charlotte’s looking at him, holding a cup of coffee and looking oddly amused.

 

“Well,” she says. “Glad you could tear yourself away for a moment. Come on, I’m starving and don’t feel like eating by myself.”

 

As that seems to be a command, Corey tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket and trails after her, fighting the urge to pull the picture Shinsuke sent back up.

 

_______

 

 

It’s not that Corey doesn’t expect Joe to make a scene at NXT that week, but the specifics of it still anger him to an extent that surprises him. He has no idea how Joe got a hold of the medical report - and apparently Regal doesn’t, either - but he rattles off the list of injuries, to the consternation of the crowd.

 

Regal’s furious. Joe must’ve realized he wouldn’t immediately get what he wanted after what he did to Shinsuke, but the threat is a real one. For a second, Corey expects him to attack Regal, which would have ended in disaster, but he just issues an ultimatum, demanding either a rematch or the title itself. If not, “the beatings will continue.”.

 

“So,” Tom says once they’re off-mic, “do you also feel like hiding or is it just me?”

 

Corey snorts. It’s an understandable impulse, but surely Joe’s rampage will be limited to the actual wrestlers? (He ignores the faint pang of regret - running afoul of Joe would totally be worth still being able to get in the ring. But, well, nothing to be done about that at this point.)

 

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure he’ll go for the roster first. And if he does come for the commentary table, I’m pretty sure I’m faster than you, so I’ll just use you as a human shield.”

 

He gets a half-scandalized, half-amused look in response. “Always so very compassionate. Also, stop checking your phone every five minutes, I think it showed op on camera a few times.”

 

“Oh, shut up, Tom, you’re exaggerating.”

 

“I’m really not. Look sharp, Regal needs you.”

 

When he looks up, Corey does, in fact, see William Regal walking towards him. “Corey,” he starts, “would you mind stopping by Shinsuke’s tomorrow to see how he is? I need to decide what to do about this mess, and I don’t have enough information.”

 

It’s _technically_ a request, but Corey doesn’t actually want to know what’ll happen if he turns it down. Besides, he’s wondering himself.

 

“Yeah, no problem. Hasn’t he been in touch, though? I got a few messages.”

 

Regal looks slightly taken aback. “No, he hasn’t. Advise him to pick up his phone when I call as well, please.”

 

“...I think he was a bit overwhelmed by all the well-wishes. But I will.”

 

When Regal has left, he sends Shinsuke a quick text explaining Regal’s request, and asking whether he needs any food or anything. The reply he gets is the least helpful he could’ve possibly received - _surprise me_ \- so he figures he’ll pick something at random and hope for the best.

 

Tom’s grinning at him again, when he looks back at him. “Nice look of bewilderment, there. Well, text me tomorrow, I’m dying to know how your date goes.”

 

As they’re professionals, Corey doesn’t actually hit him. Well, not _hard_. He lightly swats the back of Tom’s head and replies, “Oh, you’re just jealous. Like you could even get a date.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “You wound me.”

 

_________

 

 

So this is how Corey finds himself on Shinsuke’s doorstep, feeling faintly awkward, carrying bags of takeout. Somehow, it’s weirder to show up like this than he did last week, when he was half-carrying a zoned-out Shinsuke. He’s buzzed into the place and Shinsuke waves him into the apartment, looking significantly more normal than he did the last time Corey saw him. He’s in sweats and his hair is all over the place, and Corey probably shouldn’t be quite this charmed by that.

 

“Welcome,” Shinsuke says, looking faintly amused. “I doubt I said that last time.”

 

Corey snorts. “I won’t hold that against you. I’ve done the painkiller high thing, and I don’t remember being especially coherent during it.” He takes a look around the room, as he doesn’t really remember it from last time, and it’s… significantly more normal than he would’ve imagined, somehow.

 

Shinsuke seems to catch his expression as he gingerly settles back on the couch. “Not what you expected?” And absurdly, Corey feels like blushing - he doesn’t really know what he imagined, but his train of thought is cut off by Shinsuke’s laugh.

 

It’s admittedly a very nice laugh, but Corey’s still a bit disgruntled about being mocked, so - “Hey, it’s not just me! You confuse people. Our _boss_ is totally bewildered,” he says as he sits down and sets the bags down on the coffee table.

 

The laughter has stopped, but Shinsuke still looks far too entertained. “It works, in the ring. People don’t know how to react.”

 

And that might be true, but - “The confusing the hell out of Regal, though?” Corey asks.

 

“Well,” Shinsuke says, an eyebrow quirking up. “That’s for fun.” He pauses for a moment.  “...Don’t tell him that.”

 

Corey raises his eyebrows at him. “No promises.” Then, more soberly, “I promise this is the only time I’m going to ask you this tonight, but how are you?”

 

Shinsuke stares up at the ceiling for a moment, considering. “Not as bad, now. I can walk and move, but it’s so _slow._ ” There’s a very familiar frustration in his voice now, and Corey lightly rests a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Yeah, I know. Rehab starts next week, right?”

 

Shinsuke hums and nods in assent, and leans into Corey’s hand slightly. “Still, it’s a lot of time for Joe to cause trouble”

 

So he had been watching; Corey had been wondering about that. “Well,” he replies, “Tom’s considering running for the hills, and Regal might end up having an aneurysm. But not much you can do about that in the meantime.”

 

“No, I guess not,” Shinsuke answers with a sigh. Then, his eyes catch the bags of food and he seems to shake himself. “We should probably eat, it’ll get cold.”

 

He points Corey to the kitchen to find some cutlery and starts fishing through the bags, not bothering to transfer anything to plates. Once Corey gets back, Shinsuke holds out a hand for a fork and they stop talking for a few minutes, picking stuff out of takeout containers at random.

 

When they’ve made quite some headway with the food - possibly Corey went a little overboard with the amount - Shinsuke looks back up at Corey, looking pensive. He tilts his head and asks, “You used to wrestle. What happened?”

 

And wow, there’s a personal question without any lead-in. But Shinsuke would’ve missed all of that, he supposes - NXT wasn’t really on his radar at the time.

 

“I got hurt. Hit my head, several times; with the concussions, my options were quitting or brain damage.” He tries to keep his tone light, but something must bleed through in his voice, because Shinsuke’s expression softens.

 

Corey shakes his head. “It’s fine. I like my current job, I really do.” And he _does,_ so why does he always sound like he’s trying to convince himself when it comes up?

 

“Is that why you reacted like that, last week?” Oh, that’s what prompted that, Corey supposes. And how on earth does Shinsuke know that?

 

“You were _unconscious_. Who’s the gossip?”

 

Shinsuke gives him a dry look. “You were on camera.” Oh, right. “I’ll be fine, you don’t need to worry.”

 

Corey feels himself flush faintly, uncomfortable with being so transparent, but he realizes it’s actually not just that.

 

“Well, okay, that was maybe part of it. But it’s also because it’s _you_ , you know?” He’s probably not making an awful lot of sense with this train-of-thought kind of thing, but - “You know you’re special, it just - what Joe did upset a lot of people.” Corey shuts himself up before he can stick his foot further in his mouth.

 

For his part, Shinsuke looks genuinely charmed, before the teasing note returns and he replies, “Tell everyone I’ll be back soon.”

 

Glad for the escape, Corey says, “Will do,” and moves to clear away the food. Shinsuke gets up, too - too quickly, as it turns out. He stands up in a pale shadow of his usual fluid movements, and seems to lose his balance as he flinches. Corey immediately drops what he was holding and moves to steady him, carefully maneuvering him back onto the couch when Shinsuke doesn’t immediately regain his footing.

 

Shinsuke leans against him for a moment as he catches his breath, a hand pressed to the side of his ribs. Corey removes his hand from where it’d nestled in Shinsuke’s hair without any apparent input from his brain.

 

“Maybe take that a bit more slowly, next time? If you injure yourself further, Regal will kill me.”

 

There’s a faintly strangled laugh from where Shinsuke’s head is resting against Corey’s shoulder, and he pulls away. “That would be terrible, I couldn’t live with myself.”

 

Corey gets up again and gives Shinsuke a mock-stern look. “So stay put for a minute. I’ll clean up, I’m sure I can find out how your kitchen works.”

 

He wanders through the apartment for a couple of minutes, putting away leftovers - Shinsuke probably has a week’s worth of food after this - and getting rid of containers and cutlery. All the while, Shinsuke’s eyes track him through his home, and it makes him feel vaguely self-conscious. Probably he’s just glad of the distraction, but it’s still a noticeable sensation.

 

Once he’s finished clearing up, he takes a look at the clock and says, “I should probably go. Are you gonna be okay by yourself?”

 

Shinsuke rolls his eyes and answers, “ _Yes._ I just moved too quickly. It’s fine, really.”

 

By this point, Corey’s really starting to wonder about his definition of the word “fine”, but he doesn’t argue. He says goodbye and steps out the door, feeling somewhat off-balance the entire way home.

 

Tom really does end up texting him  that night, hiding the obviously genuine concern for Shinsuke’s injury under a pile of snark. Corey replies to him first - _If you’re so worried about my virtue you should’ve offered to chaperone (he was doing better, don’t worry)_ \- before calling Regal, which he probably should’ve started with.

 

He picks up at the second ring. “Corey, good morning. What news do you have for me?”

 

Corey considers his answer. “He’s doing better than last week, but not as well as he’s pretending to be.”

 

There’s a soft laugh over the line. “Well, I have yet to meet a wrestler who doesn’t put on that performance. In your opinion, did he seem to be up for physical therapy next week?”

 

“Honestly, I do think he’ll lose it with boredom and frustration if it’s pushed back much further.”

 

Regal sighs, before continuing, “Very well, not postponing it might be the lesser evil. Give him my regards, in any case.”

 

“Right, will do.”

 

________

 

 

The rest of the week is frantic enough that Corey doesn’t really have much time to dwell on NXT - it’s all Clash of Champions preparations, and then the show itself and the fall-out the day after. By the time he gets back to Orlando, it’s late on the day before the NXT taping and he’s barely had time to breathe, let alone check up on what was happening back at the Performance Centre.

 

He remembers the next day, though, when he walks down the hallway on his way back from a meeting and sees Shinsuke sitting on a table in one of the trainers’ offices, with one of their trainers carefully moving Shinsuke’s arm around. They seem to be trying the range of motion in his shoulder, and it seems to be mostly normal. Shinsuke looks relaxed, for the most part, only wincing slightly when he’s asked to stretch his arm over his head.

 

Corey realizes he’s staring when Shinsuke looks his way and waves. Well, wandering off would probably make it weirder, so he sticks his head around the door.

 

“Hey, how’s it going?”

 

The trainer looks bemused at the interruption. “Don’t mind me,” he says, “I was just leaving anyway.” He grabs his bag and walks off, after quickly rattling off a list of instructions to Shinsuke; it sounds like something they’ve talked through before. Mostly stretches and continued advice to take things easy, it seems.

 

When he’s gone, Shinsuke looks up at Corey from where he’s still perched on the table, looking pleased. “It’s healing faster than they thought. Another two weeks, maybe three.”

 

“That’s awesome,” Corey replies, feeling himself smile. “That’ll be a good bit quicker than the six to twelve weeks they estimated, right?”

 

“Five or six, yeah.” Shinsuke tilts his head before continuing, “You’re not wearing a suit. It’s very different.”

 

Corey’s momentarily startled, but no, he supposes there’s a lot of people in NXT who haven’t seen him wear T-shirts much. “No need to dress up if I’m not on camera, you know? I was just going over stuff with Tom and some of the production staff, nobody cares much.”

 

Shinsuke makes a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat, and reaches out for Corey’s arm, obviously eyeing the tattoos swirling up his arms. “Can I?”

 

Corey isn’t sure what he’s asking, exactly, but he shrugs and holds out his arm. “Sure, knock yourself out.” Which is vaguely ironic phrasing, but Shinsuke doesn’t notice; he’s already gently moving Corey’s arm and running his fingers along the lines, first on the his wrist and then up to his elbow. “Interesting that you can’t really feel them,” Shinsuke mutters, apparently somewhat lost in thought. He turns Corey’s arm over to trace the ink on the inside of his arm, fingernails scratching slightly over the sensitive skin. Corey tries hard not to shiver at the sensation, but doesn’t quite manage, and Shinsuke looks faintly smug.

 

“I did wonder,” he says, getting up and trailing his hand up Corey’s shoulder before moving it to trace the tattoos on his neck, “if I was reading you wrong. But I don’t think I am. Am I?” The fingers dip under the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his collarbone while Shinsuke’s thumb is still carefully examining the tattoos on his neck, and Corey stifles a noise at the back of his throat.

 

And goddamn it, if this isn’t reaching obnoxious levels of frustration. “Stop being such a damn tease,” Corey mutters, and buries one hand in Shinsuke’s hair - intentionally, this time - to pull him in for a kiss.

 

Shinsuke kisses like he does everything else - with an unfair amount of intensity, and also a playful streak that has Corey gasping as hands keep running over his skin, apparently nowhere near done exploring. Corey pushes him against the wall so that they don’t both lose their balance, but he’s apparently careless and Shinsuke’s sharp flinch is like being doused with cold water.

 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

 

A brief pause, and Shinsuke breathes out slowly. “Yes, it’s okay. Just bruising.” He immediately seems game to continue, catching Corey’s belt loops and tugging him back in, but honestly? That’d probably be ill-advised.

 

“No, wait, stop. If I re-injure you somehow there’s going to be a battle royal to see who gets to avenge you,” Corey says, part of him regretting it instantly.

 

Shinsuke rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to break. Or die, except of frustration.”

 

Which might be true, but Corey’s still leery about risking it. He experimentally runs a hand along Shinsuke’s back, where the worst of the injuries would’ve been, and immediately feels him tense and pull away under his hands.

 

“Yeah,” Corey says wryly, “that’s what I figured. We’ll pick this up when you have a fully functioning spine?”

 

With a sigh, Shinsuke rests his forehead on Corey’s shoulder for a moment, before pulling away.

 

“Fine, fine.” He pulls away and continues, “Once I’m cleared, we meet again.” He grins at Corey before stepping out of the room with a wave, leaving Corey standing awkwardly, hair messed up, shirt rumpled and still struggling to get all the blood flowing back to his brain.

  
Wait, what just happened?

 

_________

 

 

True to his word, Shinsuke is elusive for the next two weeks. He’ll respond to texts on occasion and sends a few faintly cryptic pictures mostly of gym equipment, so presumably he’s getting on with rehab, but Corey doesn’t see him around the Performance Centre at all - despite the fact that he finds himself spending more time there than he usually does.

 

He’s pretty sure Tom has been laughing at him this entire time, so thankfully he takes Corey’s tetchy moods with a considerable amount of good grace. Not that Corey would ever actually tell him that in so many words, but he appreciates it nevertheless.

 

Part of him is wondering whether he was overly cautious. (Admittedly, this is not necessarily the part of him that’s known for thoughtful decision-making.) Whenever he thinks it over, though, he imagines having to explain to Regal, in the midst of his trying to rein Joe in, plan a tag team tournament and manage an increasingly volatile women’s division, how exactly he managed to slow down the NXT champion’s rehab progress. Mostly, it kind of makes him want to hide under the commentary desk.

 

By the time of the NXT taping, he’s been so distracted that he’s barely noticed how on edge his coworkers seem. Watching Billie Kay take down Liv is a pleasure, of course, but there’s still an unease in the atmosphere. Everyone seems to have been waiting for the other shoe to drop when it comes to Joe, but the vast majority of the taping really does go by without any major issues - up until the last few minutes.

 

Blake and Murphy attempt to settle their ridiculous vendetta and it seems like Murphy gets the win - but then Joe shows up and sends him flying into the steps.

 

When Joe’s cleared the ring, he calls out Regal and repeats the demand he’d made previously - Nakamura, or the championship, and apparently nobody’s leaving here tonight until either is delivered. There’s a long silence, and then the violins hit and the audience roars back to life.

 

Corey’s seen a lot of technically fantastic performances from Shinsuke, but this? It’s a brawl, an attempt to work out several weeks of frustration without the inconvenient rules restrictions of a formal match. The poor security staff gets the worst of it - Corey expects them to start lobbying for hazard pay at this point - but they each get in a few decent hits before being pulled apart. As far as Corey can tell, Shinsuke’s moving normally - he has a feeling the neck brace might’ve been for dramatic effect - but seeing him fight just a few weeks after being injured is still nerve-wracking.

 

He’s a professional this time and stays at his post, waiting for the fight to clear up, but the second they’re off-air he makes his way backstage to where Regal and Shinsuke are having some sort of confrontation. Joe, thankfully, is nowhere to be seen.

 

“- said you wanted to _talk to him_ , have you lost your mind?! Being medically cleared is not an excuse for taking idiotic risks on your first day back.”

 

Shinsuke stares back coolly, holding his ground. “That would have done nothing. I needed to send a message. I’m pretty sure he got it.”

 

Regal looks about ready to throw something, before visibly composing himself and fixing his glare on Corey, who’s likely just a convenient outlet for the frustration. “You. You go talk some sense into him, I’m going to go deal with Joe. Provided I can find him, that is.” He rubs his face with his hands for a moment before heading for the exit without another word.

 

As soon as he’s gone and they’re alone, Shinsuke all but pounces. He wraps Corey’s tie around his hand to pull him in, then flips them around to push Corey up against the wall. It’s honestly a bit overwhelming and it takes Corey a few seconds to get his brain back into gear, before he decides to just roll with it and slips his hands under Shinsuke’s shirt. He pushes the hair aside to suck at Shinsuke’s neck and gets a very satisfying half-stifled moan in response.

 

Not to be outdone, Shinsuke grinds up against Corey and pushes a hand into his hair, grabbing on and maneuvering Corey into a kiss. When Corey moves his hands down and slides his fingers under the waistband of Shinsuke’s pants, he feels his breath catch; determined to get more of a reaction, Corey fumbles for the fly - the tight material doesn’t exactly make things easier - and gets stifled, impatient noise for his troubles.

 

And then the door opens and slams shut again. Both their heads snap up, but it’s unclear who that was. They stare at each other for a moment, before Shinsuke laughs and pulls away.

 

“Let’s do this somewhere more private?”

 

“Fuck, yes.”

 

_____

 

 

After, when Corey is snoozing next to a sleeping Shinsuke, his phone buzzes. When he checks it, there’s a text from Tom.

 

_I was kidding about the date thing you exhibitionist asshole_

 

Corey sends back _Like I said. Jealous,_ and goes back to sleep.

 

 

_________


End file.
